


Out of It

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Dissociation, F/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 04:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9054721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: The reader has a panic attack and disassociates and Spencer helps her through it.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry ;)





	

“There’s too many people around,” you breathed, looking around for a way to escape. You were out with your boyfriend, Spencer, his friend Derek and Derek’s wife, Savannah. You had gone to a new Mexican restaurant that had just opened in the area and there were an insane amount of people. The visual stimuli, the noise, both in the foreground and the background, and the anxiety of only meeting Derek and his wife for the second time all were forcing your heart right out of your chest. The clamminess of your hands made the knife slip out and back onto the table. “There’s too many people around,” you said again, staring at Spencer. “And there’s too much noise. I’m sorry, baby. I can’t.”

You bolted outside, feeling an insane amount of guilt for running out on Spencer and his friends, but the panic wouldn’t allow you to stay seated. Apparently, he had excused himself from the table, used to your panic attacks by now, and ran after you. “Y/N,” he called, following you out the back door of the restaurant. “Y/N, are you okay? Baby what’s wrong?”

The split second’s worth of tears had dried up and you were now staring off into space, the edges of your vision becoming sharper, yet somehow still seen through a thin mist; the pavement looking more dark gray than black, basically everything around you took on a slightly distorted hue. ‘I’m disassociating,’ you thought to yourself, aware enough of the symptoms to know what was going on. It was a good thing you hadn’t driven here, because the stress of the situation might have triggered a dissociative event while you were on the road; it had happened once before and it scared the crap out of you.

Still in a fog, Spencer grabbed your hands, rubbing the palms with his fingers as he tried to talk you through. Most of the time, hearing his voice really helped you. You wanted to open your mouth to tell him what was happening, but your mouth felt foreign and you couldn’t get yourself to speak. As you looked at him, the hazel of his eyes feeling brighter than normal, you could tell he knew what was going on. Dissociation wasn’t so common for you anymore, but apparently crowds were still a big trigger for these kind of episodes.

You came out of your stupor momentarily, wondering where you were and what time it was. “We’re at the restaurant, outside. Derek and Savannah are inside. It’s 5:45 PM,” Spencer said, giving you the facts. It was different for everyone, but you tended to come back from a dissociative episode through light touching, consistent talking and occasionally, some type of strong physical movement like dancing.

“I can’t go back inside,” you gasped, realizing that you were supposed to go back into the restaurant to eat. “I-I-I c-can’t...” You started shaking and Spencer enveloped you in his arms, smoothing your hair back as he spoke.

“We don’t have to go back inside,” he soothed, massaging your scalp. “We’ll stay right here and when you’re ready, we can go somewhere small to eat or we can go home.”

You heard his voice as if from a distance, knowing that you were slipping back into the disassociation. Spencer moved his hand lower, rubbing your back as he swayed you back and forth. It was a slow dance and some time later, you weren’t sure how much, your breathing returned to normal and you lifted your head up. “I-I think I’m okay.”

You looked around; your vision had returned to its normal state. The panic had subsided and Spencer’s voice sounded closer - the way it was supposed to be. Once you realized the episode had ended, your head shrugged forward into his chest. “You’re okay, Y/N. I’m so sorry,” he said.

“Why are you sorry?” you asked, “I’m the one who can’t go to a crowded restaurant without feeling like I’m disconnected from my own body. I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”

“You didn’t,” he insisted. “I told Derek and Savannah about disassociation. They just want to know if you’re okay.”

As you grabbed your head, rubbing your temples, you spoke, “You can tell them I’m okay and I’m sorry, but I can’t come back inside...maybe when the restaurant isn’t as new. What time is it now?”

“6:02,” he said, taking you off guard. You were out of it for nearly twenty minutes. It felt so much shorter.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeezed Spencer as hard as you could, thankful for such an understanding and caring boyfriend. “Are you ready to go now?” he asked. “Derek and Savannah suggested pizza at the place down the street. It can barely hold 10 people.”

“I’ll have to thank them both for being so understanding,” you said, squeezing his hand as you made your way to the car, “and I think I can handle 10 people.”


End file.
